


Sacrifice

by unrealkinkster (criticalkink)



Category: Sagas of Sundry: Dread RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:58:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14430093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criticalkink/pseuds/unrealkinkster
Summary: After they're done shooting episode four of Dread, Taliesin has some unfinished business with Matt. Or does Kayden have some unfinished business with Tanner? It's hard to tell.





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the kmeme [here](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/2839.html?thread=429079#cmt429079).

They call a break in shooting after Tanner’s death. How could they not? Matt’s already offstage, and Taliesin tracks him down to Marisha’s office easily enough.  
  
“You self-sacrificial little  _shit_ ,” he growls.  
  
Marisha takes one look at his face and hightails it out of the room, slamming the door closed between herself and Taliesin’s ire. Doubtless Matt’s already debriefed her on what just happened; lord knows there was enough screaming from the soundstage to alert the whole building that something big just went down. Taliesin locks the door and focuses his full attention on Matt.  
  
“Taliesin, what—” Matt’s perched on the edge of the desk and goes to stand up. Taliesin shoves him back down with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“You love Sat, huh? Did you stop to think that maybe  _killing yourself_  wasn’t the best way or  _time_  to express that? Did you stop to think that maybe she loves you too and didn’t exactly want to watch you be  _ripped to fucking shreds_?”  
  
“Like you give a shit,  _Kayden_ ,” Matt says, catching on fast. “Like you love anyone apart from  _yourself_.”  
  
Taliesin takes a step closer, leaning right into Matt’s personal space. “I  _hate_  myself, Tanner,” he growls. “I love  _you_ , you stupid fuck.” And he shoves his tongue gracelessly into Matt’s mouth, grabbing twin handfuls of Matt’s glossy hair to hold him in place.  
  
At any other time Matt would kiss him back; at any other time Matt’s hands would be in his hair right back. But this time his hands flutter around Taliesin’s shoulders,  _pushing_  at him. Taliesin growls a negation and clings harder, feeling Matt shudder against him, groaning. There’s no  _time_ , he’s got to be back on set soon, but he doesn’t think Kayden would take all that much time with Tanner anyway. It’s not his nature.  
  
Matt ends the kiss by pulling his head backward in spite of Taliesin’s clinging fingers. “Then maybe you should’ve said it sooner, dumbass.” He bares his teeth in what’s not a smile. “It was Raina and Darby, and you and Sat. You  _know_  I was the odd one out. It had to be me.”  
  
“It should have been me,” Taliesin corrects him. “It still might be.” Matt’s eyes go wide. “But right now I’m taking back what the fucking mountain took from me.” He lets go of Matt’s hair and takes a step back. “Turn around.”  
  
“ _What_?” He’s not sure if that’s Tanner or Matt. “We can’t—not now—”  
  
Taliesin takes another step, this one to the side, where the second drawer down in Marisha’s desk holds the basics: condoms, lube, a couple of zipties—and  _that’s_  fucking tempting, taking his own pleasure and then leaving Matt tied up and hard for Marisha as a present—and a bunch of wet wipes. He stacks supplies on the desk, including one of the zipties just to make Matt’s eyes go even wider. “Turn  _around_ , Tanner; we’re not in a romantic fucking comedy.”  
  
“I don’t watch that shit,” Matt says automatically, but he does turn around. Taliesin’s arms wrap around him from behind, one hand dropping immediately below Matt’s belt to grope him shamelessly.  
  
“So  _this_  is where all your blood goes when you’re dead.”  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself, Kayden; it’s just rigor mortis.”  
  
Taliesin bursts out laughing. “You’re sick.”  
  
Matt presses his ass back against the front of Taliesin’s pants. “Then you’re  _fucking_  sick.”  
  
Taliesin gets Matt’s pants open, drags them and his Calvins down to his ankles with a soft  _thunk_  as his wallet and phone hit the floor. When his hand closes around Matt’s cock Matt lets out a loud whimper.  
  
“That’s it…” Taliesin strokes him quick and hard, undoing his own belt with the other hand. “Fast this time... we can do it slow later.”  
  
“If you’re not too tired.” Matt turns his head to grin at Taliesin. “Or dead.”  
  
“Either way I’m still a horny teenage boy.” Taliesin nudges his hard cock along Matt’s cleft by way of emphasizing his point. “Aren’t you lucky?”  
  
“Aren’t you talking too much?” Matt asks, passing him the lube and obligingly bending himself forward over the desk, head resting on his folded arms. Taliesin still plants one hand between his shoulderblades just to make sure he doesn’t decide to go anywhere. Not that there are a lot of options in that direction when, a minute later, he’s got Matt impaled on two slick fingers, working him open mercilessly.  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Kayden…” A helpless groan rolls out of Matt’s throat. “Now I know what you kept skipping class to do.”  
  
“You don’t know the half of it,” Taliesin promises him.  
  
“Who was it? One of the teachers? One of the students? Was it Sat? Did Sat let you fuck her ass?”  
  
“Maybe,” Taliesin says with a smirk, and this time he can’t tell if  _he’s_  Kayden or himself.  
  
“Did she know you were practicing for me?”  
  
“She’s not fucking stupid. Or blind. She knew where I was looking better than you ever did.” Taliesin shoves a third dripping finger into Matt and twists them to make him howl, albeit muffled by the way that he’s biting down on his own forearm, encapsulating the imaginary  _1_  scratched there with a very real circle of toothmarks.  
  
When he regains his breath, Matt snarks, “Will you stop talking and just fucking  _do_  it?”  
  
“Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it.” Taliesin takes his hand off Matt’s back to tear open and roll on a condom.  
  
“ _Nicely_? Fuck you, Kayden.”  
  
“No, fuck  _you_ , Tanner.”  
  
It doesn’t much matter whether it’s Kayden fucking Tanner or Taliesin fucking Matt; once he’s buried inside that deliciously tight wet heat, whoever he is becomes a being of just sensation. Normally even their most driven, passionate encounters have an undercurrent of thoughtful care; this is purely about coming as fast and as hard as possible. Matt’s biting down on his arm again to muffle the urgent noises he’s making; Taliesin wraps a hand around Matt’s cock and sinks his own teeth into Matt’s shoulder, getting saliva all over his awful plaid shirt.  
  
This is what Kayden wanted, to reclaim Tanner as his own, and Taliesin’s more than happy to make it happen: Marisha’s desk as altar, Matt’s warm willing  _living_  body as reverse sacrifice.  
  
The wet smack of skin as Taliesin drives into Matt is loud in the small room. Matt’s making low, bestial noises as Taliesin jerks him off; he can feel the hot clench of Matt’s muscles around him and knows how close he is. He grabs a handful of Matt’s hair, tugging his head back, and catches Matt’s cry of release in his mouth, echoing it right back at him mere seconds later when feeling Matt come sets him off in turn.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Matt says eventually. “Marisha’s going to kill me.”  
  
Taliesin can intuit why. “Her desk will wipe down fine.” He eases out of Matt, kissing the back of his neck for good measure, and ditches the condom into the trash, reminding himself to take it with him and not leave the most evident sign of sex for anyone to see. The air still smells like sweat and come but that’s what air freshener is for.  
  
Matt wipes himself and the desk off efficiently before fixing his clothing. “So… does Kayden really love Tanner?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I bet the fandom would love to know that.”  
  
Taliesin raises an eyebrow, doing his pants back up. Tucking his slightly sticky cock back inside his boxers and zipping his punk pants closed over them doesn’t bring back misbegotten memories at all. “I bet the fandom don’t need any particular prompting from  _me_  to fixate their shipper binoculars squarely on the two of us.”  
  
“I thought they were shipper  _goggles_.”  
  
“Shipper sniper scopes.” Taliesin pins Matt to the desk with his hips to kiss him thoroughly. “Next time I’ll make it last.”  
  
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”  
  
Taliesin kisses him again, not denying it. There’s a spray can of something marked  _Mystical Forest Hideaway_ , which is a fancy way of saying  _fake pine_ ; he spritzes it around, ties off and replaces the trash bag, and unlocks the door. “You good to come watch the rest?”  
  
Matt looks surprised, like Taliesin fucked the memory of dying right out of his head. “What? Oh. Yes.”  
  
Marisha’s nowhere to be seen, probably still out at the soundstage making sure Ivan didn’t literally murder someone, but Key’s hovering a prudent distance from the doorway. Taliesin didn’t  _hear_  him try the locked door, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t. His eyes flick to the trash bag in Taliesin’s hand, to Matt’s rumpled hair, and he sighs.  
  
“ _Again_ , guys?” He looks disappointed, which is very sad because he does awfully good puppy-dog eyes even when he doesn’t mean to. “I did  _ask_  you not to…”  
  
Taliesin goes up on his toes to claim a whiskery, surprised kiss. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, licking his lips with slow insinuation, and leaves Key staring stunned at the two of them as they walk away.


End file.
